What We Left Behind
by RebellAngell21
Summary: The first time I saw him he was in black and white. He had my nose. The second time I saw him, he was in color. He had my eyes. The third time I saw him was in person. He had the same shocked face as mine. "Hi. My name is Nhi, but you can call me Sen-I'm your daughter."


"SEN!"

I hiss as the sleeve of my yukata smears against the fresh ink lining the paper. You'd think after living here for the past two decades I'd be used to the sudden shouts coming through the house. A soft chuckle sounds from my right as a warm cup of tea is pushed towards me with a damp rag. "If you keep jumping like that you'll run out of clothes for the week. You'd have to wear those reindeer pajamas Hiro bought you."

"Didn't we have a rule against yelling inside?" I blot at my sleeve before giving up with a huff. With a chuckle, warm hands grab my sleeve, turning it over to stare at the stain. Seiko was the current alpha of the Japanese pack, soft and peaceful, she had suffered greatly at the time of her turning. She never mentioned her turning to us. Just that she had been turned on Hirado Island and witnessed English trade ships coming back and forth.

"Yes we did, we also have a rule about not wasting all of my good ink as well. You know this specific jar is nearly twice your age. Now look at it, smeared on your yukata and that rice paper." Seiko clicked her tongue before tracing the outline of the smeared strokes. "Should we frame it?"

"SEN! Where are you? I've got something for you!" I wince as the shoji door is nearly thrown from it's closed position. A loud crack come from the base of it before the whole door shudders in its frame slanting forward slightly. We both gape at the door before Seiko slumps in her seated position with a look of defeat. Hiro, a werewolf looking not much older than 25, nervously chuckles. He hurries over to the screens slide trying to push it back into it's normal position with muttered apologies. The screen holds for a second before suddenly slumping forward out of its frame.

"Hiro. I understand that sometimes you get overly excited over the things that you find while wandering out and about, you must temper your strength! That's the fourth shoji door that we've gone through this month. Not even Reginald has caused so much damage with his messy feet on the tatami." Seiko rose to her feet walking over to Hiro with a frown. She reached up to pull the rest of the partition down with a snap.

Hiro sheepishly shoved his hands into his pockets with a soft grin. "Sorry, Seiko, I didn't realize I used that much force behind it. I wanted to show Sen before Reggie made his way over here."

"Show me what?" I asked as I began gathering the papers back together. I left the ruined calligraphy where it was to dry. At this point it was better than the usual pieces I had practiced with. If anything I'd just blame the smudge on a sense that wouldn't go away. Hiro wandered over to the table ignoring Seiko's muttering as she tapped away on her phone. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans before pulling out several pieces of crumpled paper.

"Here we go! Sensei is having us do a project on our involvement with the Vietnam War right now. He had a few books pulled out for us to go over-couldn't check them out since they just came in-but I found these pictures that were printed in there." He smoothed out the wrinkles before placing one of the black and white photocopies on the table. Curiously I leaned over to look at it.

A group of four men were standing in front of an army vehicle. All of them appeared to be worn out, lines marring their faces with dark bags under each of their eyes. I could hardly make out what was painted camouflage an what was real from the dark in. I handed the copy over to Hiro who in turn handed me another.

Seiko's phone flashed as she took pictures of the shoji door. She walked towards the two of us while she sent off her message then slid the phone into her golden obi. "If you're interested, I have a few old reels of propaganda left from them. Mostly old films from Oshima Nagisa that left a sour taste in Japan's mouth. Others are pro-communist posters that they passed around. I believe Reginald might be on one of the posters but I'm not fully certain. These don't look like Marines honestly. The uniform is all off from what they wore back then. Army?"

Hiro handed me another smoothed paper. This one was a cluster of pictures all pushed together and numbered. A solider on a bed, a man squatting in the jungle, two soldiers haggling over a chicken with a local, and finally a man, helmet drawn over his eyes as he scratched the ears of a dog. "No marines except for the last page. These guys are all army rangers, I think? I'll have to look at the captions again."

I squinted at the picture of the man with the dog. His eyes were hidden by his hat but something about him was familiar. "These are cool Hiro. Any way you can get the color copies of the pictures?" He shrugged before taking the paper from Seiko and switching it with the one I handed him back. "Not until a few more weeks at least. I can ask the Librarian if she'll let me us their color copier, but I doubt it. Maybe some mochi can change her mind?" He smiled brightly as he held the last page slightly out of my hands. I rolled my eyes before nodding yes to his unanswered question.

With a gleeful 'yes' he handed me the paper. This one only had three pictures; the same man I assumed that had been scratching the dogs ears was now crouched with the same dog, albeit skinnier, feeding him from what looked like a paper bowl. I could see his eyes appeared dark, his face holding a boyish softness as he grinned, single dimple peeking through. My hands shook as I looked over his face once again spotting what had made him so familiar to me. "Seiko-sama," I whispered in a voice so soft I felt the air could break it, "Seiko-sama…he has my nose."

Seiko appeared beside me suddenly hands swiftly yet gently moving my fingers aside so she pull the picture towards her. I looked up to see the vibrant green eyes of her wolf peering down at the picture taking in every detail before flitting to my face. Her jaw was set as she walked around the table to one of the chests lining the wall. She pushed one aside dropping down graciously to lift the edge of the tatami for the rusted metallic lock box I knew was below.

"Hiro, can you please clean the rice for dinner? My lesson with Sen went a bit longer than I expected. I've already set the prawns to marinade earlier so you can grill them if you like." Seiko pulled the heavy chest from the hidden space before setting it down with a soft thump beside her. She flipped the tatami back over the hole before sliding the chest back into place. Hiro quickly left the room taking the sudden request for the command that it was.

By the time Seiko pulled out what she needed I could hear the water from the sink running below. She placed a leather file folder onto the table then gently guided me towards it as well. For the first time in a long time I could feel my wolf rustling back into existence from her soft slumber. She pushed against my consciousness curious about the disbelief that was slowly filling my mind. I couldn't bring myself to question why she showed sudden interest before Seiko had her hands on either side of my face. Her green eyes scanned mine before pressing a chaste kiss to my forehead. I sat when she pressed against my shoulders. She poured more tea for me before dusting off the leather folders exterior. Rolling up her sleeves she quickly undid the tie around the folder then stopping it from flipping open with her palm.

I took the cup graciously from her side with both hands. The warmth seeping into my palms helped me focus back on the present, leaving the numerous questions my wolf kept batting about in my head. I met Seiko's eyes, now back to the deep brown that they were, only hints of the green at the edges. She smiled to me softly before pushing the last crumpled paper Hiro had brought back from his school towards me. "Sen, do you remember when you were brought here? Do you remember why?"

I cleared my throat then answered, "Yes. I was three years old. Mama was sick, not able to care for me anymore. Uncle Tsume brought me here for safe keeping while she got better from her sickness…only she never did."

Seiko nodded, "That would have been the story Tsume was asked to tell you." She lifted her hand from the leather flap allowing it to pop open. "I want you to understand Sen that your mother was in a very difficult position when she had you. The only option she had at the time was to either abandon you or flee here. She approached Tsume because he was stationed in Vietnam during World War II-he knew your grandfather before he passed."

I watched as she pulled out a thick stack of yellowed paper, some burnt at the edges, others covered in laminate that was clearly fraying at the edges. My wolf pressed forward curiously as the scent of ash and burned flesh began to waft towards us. It was an older smell fading int the background that wouldn't be noticed by any except a wolf. Seiko brushed flecks of dirt from the papers before delicately pulling out a stamped form. "This is your birth certificate. I'm certain by now you know that your part Japanese and Vietnamese from what Tsume had told you."

I didn't answer as she placed the form in front of me. It was perhaps the most damaged in the entire stack. I couldn't read the writing listed there, majority of it being written in hastily scratched out Vietnamese. I could sense the urgency there in the strokes. Only a few edges I could see looked like French along with a stamp on the corner. A birth certificate from what it looked like.

"Your grandmother was a Vietnamese street rat who unfortunately lived in one of the regions Japan invaded. Before we left the region, she began pregnant by one of the stationed Japanese soldiers. When we left Vietnam, he refused to take her. Several months later your mother was born; as a half Japanese half Vietnamese child born from suffering she had few choices for survival. When she was sixteen she found herself in Saigon during the heart of he war. She met your father while working the fields; he saved her life and as a form of gratitude, she slept with him. They never saw each other again."

She handed the rest of the stack to me as she poured herself another cup of tea. I slowly leafed through each paper, looking at each photo, each document that had been given or forged. "My name is Nhi…why isn't there a last name?" I looked at Seiko with curious eyes. She set her cup back down before answering me.

"Your mother never knew your fathers name. It wasn't until years later when she was driven out of Vietnam by the Viet Cong that she knew who he was. Because of the regime and his enemies she chose to shield you from them. You can look those over if you'd like; keep them, burn them, whatever it is that you decide to do. If you have any questions just know that I along with Tsume are here for you." I stopped at one final paper. This one written in English partially, the rest in Japanese, that I fully understood. A faded photograph of a blonde woman with a man who had his arm wrapped around her and the pregnant belly that she was sporting was clipped to it.

"He's married?"

"He was at one time. From my current understanding they are divorced but he is soon to be married again. I did some digging with Tsume several years back when we came upon this. Tsume attempted to contact Reggie regarding this matter but immediately backed out. At the time the pack was placed under extreme duress. You remember the whole fiasco in Hokkaido?"-I nodded yes- "Well the Marrock decided to force werewolves out into the open. We attempted to be seen at the table but were told that if we show, well, our authority would be disregarded." Seiko's voice turned rougher at the word. My eyes flicked up not at all surprised by the green nearly fully overtaking her eyes once more. "To think that they'd be under such strict laws regarding female leadership is insane." She grinned with full teeth on display at whatever memory was playing through her head.

"Nonetheless we kept out of the matter and to ourselves. You were here helping with Hiro at the time, so you didn't have to deal with the matter. But we got the answer we needed in the name. You father is a wolf-one that was turned during the Vietnam war actually."

"Who is he?"

"Adam Hauptman."

A/N: Um...hi? I know. I shouldn't publish something without finishing the other story I have. Unfortunately the plot itch that I had at the time has since fled. I'll be coming back to it but at no time soon. What We Left Behind was inspired by a close friend of mine along with Miss Saigon. I heard the original soundtrack in 2015. Between it's recent tour and listening to my friends story of survival I couldn't not write this. Sorry for any mistakes through here.


End file.
